Angel
by xoverfreak
Summary: Oneshot. Post X3. Warren has been offered the post of teaching Ethics at Xavier's but he still has someone to see. Full summary inside.


**DISCLAIMER:** Marvel Comics owns Warren Worthington III. I own the woman only.

**SUMMARY:** Oneshot. Post X3. The thing that irks me about the Warren in the movie is that in the credits, they place his mutant name 'Angel' beside his real name but the fact is, he never used it at all. So I created this story to show how he got his codename. Hope you enjoy! R & R.

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Warren hurried down the street, then realizing the weird stares he was getting by bystanders, slowed down. Truth was, he was happy. Really happy. He had just resigned from his job at Worthington Industries, had told his father straight in the face that he didn't want to take the cure and that he was going to teach others instead of staying on with the company. At first, when Storm had approached him a week after the battle at Alcatraz – for he was still staying at the school – he had thought that she was going to indirectly tell him that they needed space for new students and that it was better for him to move back home. Heck, he had had a lot of people in his life beating around the bush, going one whole round before coming to the point. And he was tired of it. His dad had done it, promising him a better life once the cure had been injected into him but then again, his dad wasn't a mutant. He didn't see how much Warren had loved the privilege to be able to fly. Lots of children went to bed at night, dreaming that they had eagle wings or butterfly wings and be able to fly but Warren, he got to experience it. Others who did not understand would call it a nuisance and a curse but Warren knew it was a gift. Him and all other mutants who appreciated their gifts, Storm being one of them. 

She had approached him with the offer that he taught Ethics at the school. He had been honored though he lacked the confidence to be able to speak and actually lead these students. For he knew that teachers could mould the futures of their students if they used the right technique. He was however, lacking in self-confidence, which Storm told him, was normal and had even added that she thought with his experience, he should do just fine. Warren hadn't really known what she had meant at first, and then had reflected about what he had achieved. His freedom as well as his father's wrath though it was all good for him. He smiled as he headed to his favourite café just around the corner of where he had once been a figurehead. Jeffrey's was a place where lovers met for brief trysts, where businessmen and stock market players tapped away at their notebooks, not noticing how beautiful their surroundings were, not bothering to just take a glance out the window and see the life that was outside. Jeffrey's had a seemingly warm and soothing air that Warren liked very much which was why he frequently came. Jeffrey would greet the young man in a cheery tone and without asking, would serve Warren's favourite mocha unless Warren had the taste for something else, which wasn't often. Jeffrey's was also the place where he saw _her_ often.

She, being the girl he saw often sitting in the back booth. She always wore purple shades, matching her outfit, which had always been purple in different shades, and never letting anyone see her eyes. He noticed her first when he sat at his usual place, by the window were bright sunlight would stream in, illuminating his handsome features. And oh, it was also a place where beautiful women, the type he never cared to bother about would look at him secretly. He knew they looked at him, would even give them a smile or a wink if he had particularly nothing to do or nothing outside the window interested him much. It was then that he noticed her. This young woman, presumably about the same age as him with long, dark hair with purple highlights that framed her face sitting in one of the back booths. She had tossed her hair over her shoulder casually but to Warren, it seemed that this move was interesting. Every move she made was interesting to him, he noticed. He wondered what drew him to this particular woman. Was she a mutant too? Was that why he felt such an affiliation? Or maybe it was because she was mysterious. It was quite intriguing to see a woman wearing shades while sitting in the darkest part of the shop. He stopped observing life outside and started observing her instead. She either didn't seem to have noticed or did not care that he was watching her. One thing he learned about her was that she left origami cranes on her coffee plate when she left. Warren had asked Warren about her but all the café owner could tell him was that she came her often, sometimes bringing a sketching pad with her and drawing. Jeffrey had told him that he had once seen a drawing that the woman had sketched and had described it as one of the most beautiful sketches he had ever seen and that the woman was truly talented.

As he neared Jeffrey's, Warren hoped that the woman was in there. Now that he had resigned from Worthington Industries and had been recruited in Westchester, this would probably be his last visit for a long time. He hoped that if she were here, he would be able to pluck up enough courage to maybe speak to her. After all, he had been watching her for a few weeks now. Surely she had noticed at least once? With that resolute in his mind, he marched into Jeffrey's and nodded at his friend to make him the usual. As he leaned against the counter, he gave the café a casual once over. Ah, there she was at her usual place, folding yet another paper crane. Warren looked down at the right-hand side of the counter where Jeffrey had kept the paper cranes that the woman had placed on her coffee plates. Jeffrey had told him once that the woman had seemed happy that he was keeping them and that a smile from her was better than any other smile he received from various customers. "So, what's up, Warren, me boy?" The old coffee maker asked as he set Warren's coffee on the marble counter.

"I've resigned from Worthington Industries is what." Warren told Jeffrey who looked surprised. "I've gotten a teaching position at a school in Westchester. Should be interesting." He shrugged.

"Well, that's great!" Jeffrey exclaimed. "You'll be among your kind." He said in a low tone though it wasn't exactly secret that Warren Worthington the Third was a mutant. The girls who patronized Jeffrey's didn't seem to care though; they still winked and smiled at him.

"Yeah." Warren said, absent-mindedly. He was watching the woman. She had finished folding her paper crane and had placed it on her coffee plate as usual. However, what was _not_ usual was that she had now taken out a sketchpad and a black pen and was starting to sketch on the pad's surface. As far as Warren knew, folding a paper crane was the sign that she was about to leave. However, here she was now, drawing away, her pink paper crane leaning on its side against the empty cup of coffee. "Is that normal, Jeff?" He half-whispered to his friend who glanced over to see what had caught the young man's attention. Jeffrey smiled slightly as he saw that it was the woman. He had noticed, these past few weeks that Warren had taken some sort of interest in the woman and he had been trying to find out all he could about her to help his friend but so far, nothing much had been given. The woman couldn't be described as cold but she wasn't the friendliest either.

"No." Jeff replied, half-frowning. "She usually leaves after putting that origami on the plate."

"Be seeing you later, Jeff." Warren said as he strolled away to his usual place by the window. He glanced at the woman but since she was busy sketching, he couldn't do much to attract her attention. Butterflies had started bouncing in his stomach as soon as he had seen her and now, the bravery that he had felt outside the café was slightly diminished. But not gone completely. Though, he mused, he couldn't just go up to the woman and ask if he could join her. He wished that he could see one of her art pieces for himself though it was impossible. Instead, he observed her features again, a little braver than when he had looked at her in past times. He was afraid that she would glare at him if he stared too much but here was a chance to look at her while she was distracted and so he did. The first thing he noticed about her was her cheekbone. They were placed high and suited her well. The most unfortunate thing however was that it was the last feature he ever saw for she had started to look up from the sketchpad that she had been concentrating on and afraid of getting caught, Warren had looked away towards the window immediately, pretending that there was something outside. When he looked back however, to his dismay, he found that her seat was empty; she had left without him even noticing. He looked wildly around the room but there was no sign of her. He looked at Jeffrey who shrugged and signaled the door meaning that she had indeed exited. Warren sighed in disappointment after looking outside and finding that she wasn't there. He glanced back to her table. There was something there. Beside the empty cup, which had been placed, back onto its plate with a paper crane by its side, a piece of paper lay, something drawn on its surface.

Warren, curious in spite of himself, rose from his seat and walked over to the booth where woman had once sat. As he approached, he could see the fine lines other sketch that the woman had done. He reached out for the paper and once it was in his hands, brought it up to see what she had drawn. What he saw made his jaw drop slightly. It was _him_. In the sketch, he was sitting at his usual place in the café, leaning against the window frame and was staring out the window. She had managed to capture every feature of him and she had drawn the furniture around him beautifully well that it was better than the ones in real life. Better and yet never different, he thought as he glanced at the original furnishings in the shop, comparing it to the ones in the drawing. What was surprising and shocking though was that his wings were in the sketch as well. They were placed where he was sure they would be if he had let them out of the harness he was still wearing. The most enchanting attribute of the sketch however was the look in his eyes, accentuated by his other facial features. It was a look that not many artists could capture in the portrait that they drew. This look was haunted; as if the person was thinking bout deep things like life, which was exactly what he did when he came to Jeffrey's. Well, keyword being did. Not since she came though. And there was also a message written in a beautiful handwriting beside the sketch. _Hope you enjoy your teaching position, guardian angel._ He smiled softly at this. She had known. Had heard that he was going away to Westchester. Had realized that he wasn't going to be here in a long while. That was the reason why she had taken out her sketchpad. He realized. To leave him one last gift. It was then that he saw a scrawl in the some handwriting written at the bottom of the sketch. _Angel_, it read. So she had thought of him as her guardian angel. Suddenly, he knew what was his mutant codename. She had given it to him. A farewell gift… _Angel_.

**- XxX** _finis_ **XxX -**


End file.
